A little water-snail with his house on his back floated on the top of
the water. Suddenly he must have thought of something downstairs that he
needed, for he drew himself into his house. Down it went to the bottom
of the water. The water-snail stuck out his horns and head, and ate up
a tiny bit of seaweed. So I suppose that is what he needed. In he drew
himself again, and up went his house just as if it were an elevator.
“You must find that house very convenient,” said I to him. But he said
nothing to me; he only floated on the top of the water.